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Nostalgia February 2018

Silver Screen, Golden Years

The Strawberry Blonde

By Jacqueline T. Lynch

There is much bickering and posturing about modern women, whom Cagney disparages and about whom he scoffs with one of his many platitudes, “An empty barrel makes the most noise.” He will marry Olivia, but it will take until the end of the film before he actually realizes how lucky he is.

“The Strawberry Blonde” from 1941 is a parody of the olden days, with James Cagney in the unusual role of a stiff-necked and somewhat moralistic schmuck who becomes the butt of his huckster pal’s schemes. It is also a love story. He eventually finds happiness with Olivia de Havilland only when he wakes up and stops being a stubborn, self-deluded fool. This is not what we usually expect from James Cagney, known more for his sharp-talking gangsters, charming average joes, and a particularly famous song-and-dance man named Cohan.

But in those movies, Jimmy never had to contend with that master of fast-talking malarkey, Jack Carson.  Here, Jack Carson plays Cagney’s pal in his typical insincere, smart aleck role. Carson is dependably funny, and has that terrific ability to play a creep or a poor soul even though his delivery remains the same, no matter in what film he appears.

Classic films of the 1930s and 1940s seem to have enjoyed a love affair with the 1890s and turn-of-the-20th-century fare. This particular plot was used in 1933 with Gary Cooper in “One Sunday Afternoon,’ and again in 1948 as “One Sunday Afternoon.”  The title “The Strawberry Blonde,” of course comes from the lyrics of “The Band Played On” – “Casey would waltz with a strawberry blonde/and the band played on…” 

“Casey,” in this case, is Mr. Cagney as a hapless dental student named Biff Grimes, busy keeping his drunken, skirt-chasing rogue of an Irish da out of trouble, played with his usual nothing-up-my-sleeve finesse by Alan Hale. George Tobias, one of Warner Bros.’ reliable character actors, plays Cagney’s pal. Look for Una O’Connor, and George Reeves as the college man in the letter sweater.

The girl of Cagney’s dreams is played by Rita Hayworth, the strawberry blonde of the piece.  On the outside she is as elegant-appearing as a wedding cake, but inside she is as common as a mug of beer. It will take most of the film for the smitten Cagney to realize this and take her off her pedestal. Olivia de Havilland is her friend, and is a nurse to boot, seen as an unromantic profession of serious ladies who are soon-to-be spinsters. To make matters worse in Cagney’s eyes, she is also a suffragette who smokes. Not very expertly. But she does.

There is much bickering and posturing about modern women, whom Cagney disparages and about whom he scoffs with one of his many platitudes, “An empty barrel makes the most noise.” He will marry Olivia, but it will take until the end of the film before he actually realizes how lucky he is.

We get an eyeful of straw boaters and leg o’mutton sleeves, and lots of choruses of the popular tune of the day, “The Band Played On.” Jack Carson gets rich as a shady contractor, and he wins Rita Hayworth’s hand in marriage, too.  When Cagney and De Havilland come to dinner at their home, Carson and Hayworth show off their new electric lighting.

“I just can’t get over that electric light,” an awed Miss De Havilland remarks, “Isn’t it dangerous?”

“Not if you pay the bills,” is Carson’s line, delivered in a cute way of trying too hard to be funny. Even when he’s a braggart and a blowhard, it’s hard to dislike him. They serve a new dish for dinner; a popular fad that is something called “spaghetti” which none of them knows how to eat.

Carson gives down-and-out Cagney a job in his contracting company, but makes Cagney the fall guy when, because of inferior materials being used, a building the firm is constructing collapses. Cagney’s father, a laborer on the job, is fatally injured in the collapse. Poor Cagney gets stuck with the rap and is sent to jail for several years, and so, unexpectedly, the plot turns from one of innocent smirking over high button shoes — to a tragedy.

But wait, it’s not a tragedy; there are more comic scenes of Cagney keeping up with his dental studies in prison. When he gets out of jail, he removes Carson’s sore tooth without anesthetic, just for spite. The movie actually parodies itself. Modern “snark” wrapped in a valentine.

The film ends, charmingly, with another round of “The Band Played On” in singalong style with the words printed out on title cards as they might have been in the early days of silent films, and we are encouraged to sing.  The final title card in elegant script graciously declares, “Thank You, Come Again.” 

 

Jacqueline T. Lynch is the author of Ann Blyth: Actress. Singer. Star., available online at Amazon, from CreateSpace and the author. Email: This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. .

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